The Luck Ones
by Afropunk95
Summary: Soulmate society. Bakugo is a recluse Alpha. Todoroki is a wary Omega. Opposites attract and unfortunately for them, resistance is futile.
1. Chapter 1 - Mountain Savage

Chapter 1: Mountain Savage

Summary: Soulmate society. Bakugo is a recluse Alpha. Todoroki is a wary Omega. Opposites attract and unfortunately for them, resistance is futile.

First fic. Eventual smut. Slow burn. Alpha/Omega nonsense.

* * *

A/N: Y'all better strap in because idk wtf I'm doing.

Not beta'd. Anyway enjoy. What is italicized are Bakugo's direct thoughts.

* * *

Love is a strange thing.

Not that he couldn't fathom that it existed – love was real. He knew his father loved his mother more than he loved himself, he knew he loved the smell of books, he loved spicy seafood dipped in chilli oil, he loved to cook, he loved it when he pressed his foot into the neck of a villain and heard that luscious _crunch._ He loved the way the wind whipped about his body when his quirk blasted him ten feet into the air and he loved winning – he loved winning more than he loved sleeping.

But that hanky panky mushy 'I love you' shit? He wasn't sure. There had been a time when he had asked his father why he married his mother – she was abrasive, loud, clumsy and annoying. His father had laughed as he stirred the pot of the soup, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "She's my soul mate - I love her."

Bakugo had always been told that when he found his soul-mate, he'd know. It was drilled into his skull from the moment he punched his way out of his mother's womb. When round face had said it, he remembered snorting whilst she recited her romantic crap during lunch.

"Fucking garbage." He'd sneered and promptly vacated the table.

As if opening the floodgates, other students began chiming into the superstitious rubbish. Frog girl had started saying it, then tape boy and electro-boy too. Every single fucking day at least one of the extras mentioned it. Mind-fuck boy had once mentioned in passing that it felt like being high – that childish, nervous feeling boiling in your gut.

"Everything zooms into a single pinprick of existence." Mind-fuck had muttered. He snapped at the fish on his lunch plate with his chopsticks, moving it idly. "Like… like you're seeing for the first time?"

Tape boy described it as seeing through a microscope. Bakugo remembers electro-boy not so-discreetly grabbing tape-idiot's hand under the lunch table. He doesn't remember exactly how he reacted, but he remembers feeling repulsed.

The only time he felt anything was towards Kirishima - after the rescue operation. Bakugo cringed at the memory - it had wounded his pride so much that he avoided his classmates for days. He remembers grasping onto shitty's hair's hand, flying through the air like a rag doll. He remembers his hand being sweaty and awful. He remembers rage and nerves - but Kirishima held onto him like an iron vice. At that moment, he felt like out of all of the extras in the class, Kirishima was the most dependable. The alpha in him keened at the thought of mating with him. He _very, very_ slowly warmed up to Kirishima's routine and passion for 'manliness.' Shitty hair's scent made him feel lightheaded, but it didn't strike him as mind-fuck had described.

When Kirishima was 18, just before graduation, he burst into the common room with a razor-sharp smile. Bakugo tore his eyes from his book, silently watching Kirishima lift the room with his infectiously good mood. His scent was off. Something wasn't right. Bakugo didn't know it at the time, but in hindsight he was definitely attracted to Kirishima. He remembers his stomach feeling like a contraction when Kirishima's cheeks were coloured scarlet. A strange, unpleasant stirring bloomed in his gut. When shitty hair had screamed that he'd found his soul mate, Bakugo knew that it wasn't him. He didn't know how he'd known, but he _knew_.

He silently excused himself from the room as soon as shitty hair started babbling about that giant wind freak from Shiketsu High School. That night he remembered returning to the darkness of his dorm. He coiled himself up in his sheets and slept for a long time. His chest heaved with slow-building anxiety as the Alpha in him contorted and snapped wildly, rousing his usually silent slumber into ominous nightmares. Bakugo watched as the extras fell into each other like dominos falling into place. He felt like the single onlooker in a live-action play with no ticket.

He was okay with that. His father had once told him a man who wants to lead an orchestra must turn his back to the crowd. At the time, he had shrugged it off as philosophical trash. At the ripe age of 24, he understood that greatness required sacrifice – even if that meant solitude.

Bakugo grunts as he trudges up the mountain, a large deer slung over his shoulder. His black combat boots clink against marble rock in his slow ascent. Ashen clouds hid the groggy sunlight of the day. Trees hiding whispered secrets of the woods towered into the expanse, tall green oaks bigger than buildings stretched to touch the sky. He glances at the clouds and hurries his pace. Nightfall is coming – he'd have to hurry if he wanted to skin his catch and cook, otherwise it'd be too dark to prepare the firewood.

When he reaches a particularly high climb, he hoists himself up onto the tall rock with ease. Standing straight, he inhales deeply. It is better for him to be alone. His jumbled thoughts align in silence – plus, he just likes the quietness of the mountains. At times, the silence is insufferable, but most days he handles it well. He returns to the mountains only for summer and spring, when the media made him fidget. The fame that came with heroism had become old fast. Fame was electrifying and the attention made his ego do cartwheels - but the invasion of privacy singed his veins. It irritated him more than he thought. His heat always eclipsed in summer and it was not worth battling his heat and his fan's gaze at the same time.

In the winter it was necessary for Bakugo to return to the incessant and annoying chatter of the city. The mountains were too cold for respite. The cold was far less impactful in compact environments. The frost always had a way of worming into his bones. It was worth tolerating shitty humans, even if for a few months.

Gleaming red eyes turn to look down the mountain. "Oi, hurry up!"

Akuma barks from behind him, bounding up the rocks and overtaking Bakugo's slow ascent with ease. When the giant German Shepard reaches the top, he barks at the bungalow in the distance before turning to yap again at his owner. He shakes his thick black mane and lops a pink tongue out of his mouth. Wagging his tail, he pins his owner with a tilted a stare.

"Fucking show off." The blond growls. The hero continues his slow ascent until he reaches the top, dragging his catch under the safety of his gazebo outside of the bungalow. He unceremoniously throws the deer on the wooded table and sighs, cracking his neck twice. Akuma sniffs the game and attempts a lick, but Bakugo shoos him with the boot of his shoe. "Fuck off, wait until I'm done."

Peeling off his wet jacket, he throws it on his garden chair and gets to work prepping his meal. Bakugo grabs a large axe from the table and sets to work chopping up dry firewood before throwing the wood in the fireplace he'd prepared before his hunt. Akuma sits quietly, watching his master complete his handiwork.

"Kuma, pass me the knife."

The dog barks and grabs the serrated knife from the table, clamping the handle in his jaws. Bakugo takes the knife carefully, scratching Akuma's ears. "Good boy."

Bakugo skins the deer, throwing pieces of meat into Akuma's mouth here and there. He chops the meat up and continues the mundane task of prepping his dinner, staring at the knife as he works. Kirishima had given him this knife for his 20th birthday. The sterling silver glinted in Bakugo's tight grip. He stills as he was thrown into the vault of his memories.

He remembered his hands feeling clammier than usual when shitty hair had mentioned a gift in passing. He remembers the afternoon rays making hair-for-brains red eyes gleam like molten lava. He remembers his chest tightening when Kirishima grinned that stupid wide mouthed, sunny grin. His red eyes crinkled in mirth as he shoved the box into Bakugo's chest.

" _Happy birthday Bakubro!"_

Bakugo grunts savagely, slicing the last pieces of his catch. He throws the bloodied abdomen of the deer on the floor for Akuma to devour.

That was four years ago. He has not seen shitty hair since then. In fact, he'd barely seen any of his classmates since then, save for electro-boy, but they work in the same agency. Bakugo stares at the knife, regret coiling in his gut. Maybe he'd text shitty hair after dinner. Maybe… maybe he'd see him this summer… but Kirishima was already mated. They could still be friends though…

Bakugo blanches. Why does it even matter if Kirishima has a stupid boyfriend? Fuck.

Bakugo stuffs herbs and spices into the deer, rubbing salt into the meat aggressively before slamming a stick through the tender meat. Smoke coils from his shoulders, sparks crackling against his knuckles. He sucks a breath in noisily to calm his rising anger. It doesn't even fucking matter. Fuck Kirishima and fuck his wind freak friend. He was fine in the woods for the summer. He'd figure shit out when he returned for the winter.

Lightning cracked across the sky, thick storm clouds rolling in from the east. The sound of thunder shook him from his reverie and carried the heaviness of his thoughts with it. The rain heaved torrential downpour, but Bakugo seemed unfazed. The rain always calmed him, always made him feel grounded, even if his quirk was useless in it.

Dinner proceeded as usual. Bakugo ignites a fire with a repressed crackle of his quirk. He roasts the deer under the gazebo whilst seated in his garden chair, smoke billowing under the tented roof. He turns the meat nonchalantly, chin resting on his palm. Akuma pants, staring at the rotating meat whilst resting at his owner's feet. When the meat was done, he slammed a large pot on the fire and poured water from a bottle in. Bringing it to boil, he places a sieve over the top and puts fresh vegetables in, steaming the fibre until it was soft enough to eat. Bakugo eats his dinner in usual silence, occasionally scrolling through his phone and reading the Hero News.

"You hungry, Akuma?"

Akuma barks and Bakugo throws chunks of raw deer meat into the dog's mouth. The corners of his mouth upturn slightly in a rare smile as Akuma gulps the meat down happily. Wagging his tail, the giant dog licks the fingers of his owner. Bakugo allows him to do so for a while, before snatching his hand away and mumbling with fake disdain, "Gross."

Nightfall creeps upon the camp. Bakugo retires to the bungalow after sloshing water on the fire. He grabs his kitchen equipment and jacket, washing all traces of his bloodied hunt away in the sink. Exhaling loudly, he rips off his combat boots and crosses the bungalow. His abode is open-planned and wooden panelled, plants potted here and there on random shelves. Pans and kitchen utensils hang from the walls in the kitchen slotted on the left of the bungalow, whilst a small bathroom was to the right upon entering. He lights an incense candle smelling of sandalwood and strips himself of his outward gear, striding into the bathroom. He showeres quickly and meticulously, before brushing his teeth and throwing on a black shirt for bed. Turning off the lights, Bakugo throws himself onto the bed face first, bouncing slightly. He yawned deeply and tucked the serrated knife under his pillow, curling into the soft sheets.

Akuma stares at his owner from across the room. Bakugo opened his arms in bed and the German Shepard wipes his paws on the mat near the door, before crossing the room and jumping into bed with Bakugo. The hero wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a gentle hug before tucking Akuma's huge hairy head under his chin. After reading more Hero News and watching a few videos on HeroTube, Bakugo drifts off to sleep with his best friend in his arms.

He dreamed of red spikey hair and sun-red eyes.

The sound of growling jerks him awake. The drowsiness of sleep is alluring, gently grasping at his consciousness. The weariness of sleep ebbs away as the biting chill settles in. It's cold - really fucking cold. He listens intently for the sound of rain to relax him yet hears nothing but ceaseless growling. His arms go to squeeze Akuma gently for warmth but notices that the dog spot on his bed is empty. Bakugo heaves a long, irritated sigh and sits up. Sleep blurres his vision and the cold feels like frost on his skin. He presses both palms into his tired eyes. Why is it so cold? He longed to return to the coffin of unconsciousness and darkness with Akuma, where his dreams of shitty hair haunted him.

"Akumaaaa" Bakugo hisses, drawing out the last syllable of his dog's name. He reaches for the phone on his bed stand and presses the button in the middle. The screen blinkeres on. The brightness pierces the darkness and Bakugo winces immediately. "Shit," He hisses as his pupils shrink under the intensity of the phone screen. Turning the brightness down, he makes a mental note of the time. 3:12AM. Too fucking early. Bakugo turns his attention to his dog's continuous growling. He catches sight of Akuma in the middle of the bungalow, teeth bared, canines jagged in the moonlight. His ears are folded back in a sign of aggression and his tail swings erratically in the night.

Bakugo clicks his teeth to grab the dog's attention, but Akuma ignores him and escalates his growl into a ferocious snarl. Bakugo's mild irritation morphes into sharp annoyance. He swings his legs out of his bed and leans forward, sighing deeply. He just wants to fucking sleep.

His hackles rise when a looming shadow is cast onto the hardwood floor. Bakugo freezes and Akuma suddenly lunges forward, salivated jaws snapping wildly. The sound of Akuma's distress rattles Bakugo from his sleepy inertia. He stares as his dog makes several guttural barks, borderline dog-screaming in the middle of the night. He silently thanks Akuma for his alertness as he slowly sits back down on the bed to reach for the serrated knife under the pillow, gripping it firmly in his right hand.

 _Whatever the fuck it outside of the window has to be tall to cast a shadow like that._ The shadow had cast a permanent block on the floor, unmoving and formidable in the moonlight. Akuma suddenly shrinks back as the shadow begins to stretch across the floor. Power blooms in Bakugo's stomach and spreads, warming his chest and lungs as he feels his quirk come alive. His nostrils flare as he bares his teeth. His fingers tingle, his shoulders tense. The hairs on his neck stand on end. He tightens his grip on the knife, balling his free hand into a white-knuckled fist. Adrenaline invigorates him now, fight or flight mode activated. He blasts forward screaming bloody murder - both and he and Akuma make for the door, ready to tear the intruder asunder.

As he is shot into the window's line of sight, he stiffens. The world stops spinning as he stares at a set of crystal clear mismatched eyes through the window. A creature with fur as red as blood stands on its hind legs, staring into the darkness. Its canine muzzle dwarfs the small window, large black nose wrinkled mid-sniff. Each breath it takes billows warm steam onto the window. The entire world seems to black out as Bakugo stares. The scent of summer meadows and fire hit him at once, immobilizing him. His blond eyelashes flutter as he breathes deeply, a scent like a barren desert and an amazon thick with rain freezing his bones. Everything slows – Bakugo can hear his heartbeat rattling in his ears. His blood feels like liquid fire and arctic ice all at once.

Suddenly, the beast's pupils dilate and Bakugo feels an indescribable pull, as though his skeleton is trying to separate from his body. His mind launches into a blinding flash of activity, skin prickling with a strange excitement. He gasps, unable to breathe properly – his lungs rattle as a jolt of pleasure shoots from his skull, spreading across his body. He feels so awake and alive, he briefly wonders whether a bolt of lightning has struck his house.

Akuma barks again and the blond tears his gaze from the large creature. Somehow, the action seems almost painful. The world seems to darken almost immediately and the haziness that had settled on his shoulders is suddenly ripped from him, stunning him into reality. The shock of whatever has just happened is still pumping through his system because he rips the bungalow door open with an aggressive roar. He tumbles into the chill of the night, ready to butcher the red devil. It isn't until Bakugo comes face to face with the beast that he realizes how absolutely fucking massive it is. At least four times bigger than Akuma, with long white whiskers. It is huge - bigger than any wolf he has ever seen. Lifting its paws from the window, the creature turns to Bakugo with exaggerated slowness, mismatched intelligent eyes glinting in the moonlight. He has never seen a wolf like this before. Or is it just because it's 3:12 in the morning and he has slept like, four hours?

The beast takes a tentative step forward, but Akuma howls savagely and lunges for its jugular. Lurching backwards, the red creature barks in surprise, ice suddenly blasting from beneath. Akuma yelps as he is knocked aside, howling when his heavy body crashes into the extinguished firewood.

" _Akuma!"_ Bakugo screams. Engulfed by rage, he turns to the wolf, red eyes alight with volcanic fury. Sparks of yellow and orange set his body ablaze as he explodes forward, momentum hurtling him nose to nose with the creature. The beast widens its eyes, thick glossy ice shooting from the ground – but Bakugo is quicker. He thrusts his free hand forward, quirk crackling violently in his hand, shattering the ice and billowing smoke into the air.

Before the creature can react, Bakugo snarls and slams the serrated knife to the hilt into the beast's shoulder with blinding speed. The beast howls, staggering aside, slipping on broken ice. Bakugo steps forward, intending sear the beast with an explosion to the abdomen, but a column of fire bursts from the ground. Bakugo cries out as he dodges too late, his right palm sizzles from a heat burn. He jerks back with a hiss, crashing into muddy floor.

The creature draws rattling breaths, each exhale steaming in the frozen night. Bakugo pins the beast with his gaze and advances forward, shoulders squared, breathing erratic, left palm crackling with venomous intent. The wolf locks eyes with him and again, he freezes. Sea turquoise and stormy grey eyes flip his stomach. He feels a chill travel from his toes to his skull – he does not move. He smells forest rivers and cracked dry earth. There is something strange happening – something unusual. He cannot explain it, but those eyes…

Bakugo steps back, red eyes never leaving the injured animal. He gulps air, shakily clutching his burnt palm. The animal stares at Bakugo in return, pupils dilating. Its red coat is soiled with mud and blood, wheezing loudly into the night. Bakugo feels the pull again, feels the sensational tingling that makes him gasp. His eyes glaze over and suddenly, he feels compelled to step forward. As soon as he does, the creature tears its eyes from Bakugo and shakily jerks to its feet. Bakugo is stunned back into reality from the broken eye-contact, like a bucket of water on the senses. Turning quickly, the wolf vaults into the darkness of the woods, limping painfully but skilfully from rock to rock.

Bakugo collapses on the ground, clutching his chest with his uninjured hand.

 _What the fuck, what the fuck?_

Reality slaps him and he rises, darting towards the fireplace. His chest tightens when mulling the potential extremity of Akuma's injuries, but he releases a shaky breath when he finds Akuma crying quietly on the firewood. Bakugo stretches out his arms for a hug and the pup launches itself into his arms immediately. Bakugo wraps Akuma in a stronghold, wincing when his injured palm cups Akuma's head. He lifts Akuma up and retires to his bungalow, flipping the light on and locking the door. Placing Akuma on the floor, he examines the dog for any injuries and allows the mutt to prowl his home, checking for any limping or indication of pain. Once satisfied that Akuma is not injured, he goes to the bathroom and shakily wrenches open his first aid drawer, tearing open a pack of bandages with his teeth. Dipping the gauze in antiseptic liquid, he hisses whilst wrapping his burnt hand with the gauze.

After bandaging his hand, Bakugo steps into the main room and presses his finger to the centre of his phone on the stand. The phone blinks on – 3:31. He briefly considers stepping out to survey the area but dismisses the idea. The wolf is gone – with a knife in its shoulder, it stands a threat to no one. Bakugo sits on the edge of his bed, scratching Akuma's ears absentmindedly. He lets his mind wander to what he considers to be an extraordinary 15 minutes.

That wolf had red fur and mismatched eyes – he'd never seen a creature like that before. It fought with ice and fire – and stranger than that - the smell… this feeling…he couldn't explain it. If a creature like that was wandering the mountains, why hadn't he encountered it in the three years he'd been visiting? Why hadn't Akuma picked up its scent? How can an animal have a quirk? Why did he feel so… weird?

Huffing impatiently, Bakugo rakes his uninjured hand through his dirtied ash blond hair. He slides from his bed to the floor, red eyes turning to examine the brightening clouds from outside his window. He grunts and shoves his previous thoughts aside, too tired to over-complicate things. He pulls Akuma into an embrace that makes the dog yelp, snapping at Bakugo's fingers, before whining and licking his owner's hands. The blond scowls at the action but ignores it, comforting his startled and jumpy dog by softly stroking Akuma's belly. The dog's racing heartbeat settles and Bakugo feels him physically relax in his hold.

He does not sleep until daybreak.


	2. Chapter 2 - Something is afoot

The second chapter of this wayward series. Enjoy or don't I guess.

By the way, I'm British so don't come for my non-American language/mannerisms.

 _Italics_ is a stress or Bakugo's thoughts.

 _ **Bold and italics**_ is the inner voice of the Alpha.

* * *

2\. Something is afoot

* * *

For the next four days, Bakugo's dreams are punctured with mismatched eyes, ice and fire.

He occupies his time to distract himself from his Alpha that rolls his thoughts into a tight spring. He gathers fresh fish from the river, hunts game from the forest. He brushes off Akuma's winter coat, teaches him new tricks and reaffirms how Akuma will pick up a scent from a trail. He harvests the crop from his garden and pays close attention to his healing hand. He thoroughly goes about his training regimen. At daybreak, he rouses himself and scouts the area with Akuma in tow – he travels until he becomes exasperated. He seeks out the red beast, kitchen knife sheathed on his belt.

In his mind, he tells himself he searches for his serrated knife of sterling silver and carbon black. When he returns from his voyage empty handed, his combat boots clink in the night like a reaper. The Alpha in him groans and rocks, scratching at his conscience. This alone causes Bakugo's usual confidence to twist uneasily - his Alpha rarely speaks. It is as quiet as it is veracious – but this time, it forces its way through his thoughts like fingers through a jarred door to expose what lay beneath.

It's really fucking annoying, actually.

He perpetuates the mundanity of living in solitude with his dog as his companion, but Bakugo knows something is amiss. Something is wrong. His Alpha breathes into him, asserting its presence. Both are chasing that floating feeling, the sight of dilating pupils. Bakugo has crushed his Alpha with a mental fist several times over the last few days. A wolf with fur as red as the devil crept up on him in the middle of the night, then blasted both him and his dog with fire and ice to kingdom come. A wolf – not another human being. A powerful animal like that shouldn't just be running around near his bungalow, not without being checked out. He recites a desire to confront the beast, whether violent or passive. He will get his fucking knife back and then he'll figure out what to do from there.

On the fifth day, shit hits the fan.

Bakugo finds a trail of red fur and huge paw prints several kilometres from his bungalow near a river. The sun hangs high in the sky, causing the flowing water to glisten. He folds his arms and emits his famous 'che', before turning to Akuma, jabbing his thumb at the evidence.

"Akuma, do the thing."

The dog barks and slams his nose to the soil, breathing the scent deep into his lungs. The German Shepard sniffs three, four, five times before trotting into thick foliage. Bakugo follows, keeping his injured palm to his chest and brushing leaves bigger than his body from view. His backpack jerks with his movements and he silently thinks he'll burn the damn thing when they get back to camp. The pair move through thick nestles of leaves, before breaching what appeared to be an area of burnt boscage. Ashen leaves and scrubs litter the ground, charred branches dangling from trees.

Bakugo scans the area before sniffing the air. He can smell it. He closes his eyes and breathes in – he can smell lush pine and fire all at once. It smells _really good._ He bends to pick a charred branch from the floor and sniffs it. No pungent smoke - whatever happened here happened at least 48 hours ago. He discards the twig and straightens, eyes wandering left and right, searching. In this moment he feels like a predator searching for a kill.

He watches as Akuma trots to a vacant spot untouched by fire and ash. Walking over, Bakugo narrows his eyes when he discovers there is red fur everywhere – _a lot_ of red fur. He plucks the red fuzz from the ground and is surprised by the softness. Absently, he wonders if this is what Kirishima's hair feels like. He presses the fur to his nose, blond brows disappearing into his hairline from shock.

 _It smells like a beach. The fuck?_

Bakugo examines the red pelt on the floor, shifting through it with his fingers. His heart beat quickens, anxiety bubbling in his gut. Why is there so much red fur here? The prospect of potentially killing one of Akuma's more powerful relatives makes him uneasy. His Alpha roars suddenly. Bakugo throws the fur to the ground and straightens, eying the shredded fuzz with mild disgust. _What is wrong with me? I'm out here fawning over the smell of some fucking wolf._

Akuma barks and Bakugo pats the dog's giant head, drawing circles on the mutt's forehead with his thumb. "Good boy." The blond removes his backpack and digs in, opening the sandwich bag of treats. He throws a cube of frozen deer meat into Akuma's mouth. The dog snaps it up and licks his nose. When he sneezes as a result of licking his nose too much, Bakugo smirks. "Fucking dumbass."

He checks his phone for the time – 11:02. Pocketing the device, he plucks more fur from the floor and holds it to Akuma's nose. The mutt sniffs the fuzz deeply, ears folding back. Akuma makes a noise at the back of his throat, before turning and trotting further into the foliage. Bakugo follows, swatting wasps and other insects away with his hand. They continue like this for a while, stopping at different checkpoints and Akuma sniffing at the fur to reinforce the scent. When they clear the vegetation, Bakugo is surprised to see that the land is almost barren. There are no trees for as far as the eye can see. Mountains with an arctic peak stand powerfully in the distance and the sun illuminates the empty meadow with dancing shadows.

The rational part of the hero's mind grumbles at the distance he's travelled from his home and the fear of getting lost, but his Alpha rears its head and crushes his worries. He is more instinct now than he is Bakugo as he surveys the landscape. _Where are you, Mr Wolf?_

As the pair wander, the smell of copper begins to hang heavy in the air. Bakugo's eyes dart back and forth, surveying the landscape. Both owner and dog walk for several minutes, the owner driven by a deep carnal impulse to _find._ Bakugo's eyes land on a disfigured lump in the distance. He crosses the expanse seemingly nonchalantly – but as he draws closer, he realises the lump is a human corpse, and his 'nonchalance' dwarfs the panic that blooms in his chest.

He is only aware he is running when his lungs expand under the strain of his exertion. He barrels forward to examine the body. Upon closer inspection, he realises it is a male.

"Fuck! Hello? Hello?" Bakugo pants, crouching as he reaches the body. The male is faced down, naked and ghostly pale. The body lies in a pool of crusted blood, a deep and angry wound on his shoulder. The hero touches the body to turn it over, only to jerk his hand away immediately. _Fuck, it's hot._ The skin feels so hot, it almost burns to touch it.

 _Is he alive?_ Bakugo turns the body quickly to check if the male is breathing but is stunned with an entirely different revelation. His mouth falls open.

It's Todoroki. It's fuckin' half and half.

His red and white hair is caked in mud, dark lashes mottled with dried blood. His face is crusted with blood and a deep, blotchy bruise is imprinted on his temple from where he fell. Bakugo's hero training kicks into overdrive. His mind blocks out half and half's nakedness, pressing his ear to Todoroki's nose. It's very faint, but he feels the dullest puff of warm breath against his ear. The next breath does not come as quickly as he'd like.

 _Half and half is barely kickin' it._ Bakugo stands suddenly, gleaming red eyes never leaving the pulsing wound on Todoroki's shoulder.

"Fuck!" He growls as he shrugs off his backpack. He rips the bag open, tearing his eyes from Todoroki to rummage through the sack. He aggressively discards useless items on the ground.

" _Fuck!"_ He hisses when his injured palm knocks against a sharp point in his bag.

"FUCK!" He shouts. Where is the first-aid box? His mind vaults to the green compartment balancing on his bathroom sink in his bungalow. Of course he didn't fucking pack it. He hadn't expected to find a half dead extra in the barren mountains at the height of spring.

"Okay." He says resolutely. The Alpha in him keens suddenly, breaking his concentration. He outwardly growls but ignores the Alpha completely. He needs to save half and half's life, right here, right now. "Okay. Okay – Akuma!" He commands as he shoves the discarded items back into his bag. The dog barks from a distance as he bounds forward.

"Akuma, take the bag. I'm taking half n' half." Akuma tilts his head at Bakugo as he approaches, a sign of confusion. Bakugo grits his teeth as his irritation rises but holds back a retort. Akuma is a dog. He has to be patient. He has to relax. The blond breathes through his nose to calm his nerves.

He points at his backpack. "Bag." He takes the bag with his uninjured hand, guiding it to Akuma's mouth. "Hold it." Akuma barks and clamps onto the handle of the bag with his teeth, wagging his tale excitedly.

" _Yes!_ Fuckin' yes! Good boy!" Bakugo face spreads into a rare smile. Akuma's tail wags faster.

Bakugo turns to half and half. Bending his knees, he hooks his arms under Todoroki's armpits and lifts him, slinging his arm over his shoulders. The blonde's permanent scowl deepens. _Jesus fuck, he's heavy._ His sensitive injured palm grips Todoroki's wrists, pulling the unconscious hero over his shoulder. The blonde performs the fireman carry with ease, hoisting Todoroki like a sack of potatoes. His burned palm protests, slick with nitro-glycerine and adrenaline but he easily ignores the pain. Absently, he notices that he cannot smell Todoroki at all. The Alpha in him paces uneasily.

Bakugo turns to his best friend. "Akuma" he commands. The hero steps forward and bends his knees, allowing the dog to sniff his hair. When he stands again, Akuma has straightened his spine. His dog ears point high into the sky and his previously wagging tail now points stiffly in the air, a sign of slick concentration. Bakugo's chest swells with pride. He can trust Akuma - he can depend on him.

"Akuma - home."

* * *

At 17:06, Bakugo kicks his front door open with ferocious velocity. His body is slick with sweat, thighs burning from Todoroki's heavy weight. His arms feel numb, his shoulders ache, his burnt palm stings and his body scorches from Todoroki's searing body temperature. Bakugo's body trembles as he enters his bathroom, having carried Todoroki for over six hours non-stop at a disciplined jog with Akuma trotting at a decent pace in front. At first, doubt wormed its way into his gut three hours into their trek – but when he found himself jogging past the trail of malted red fur they had encountered before, relief overcame the doubt, followed by pride.

 _That fucking dog._ Bakugo barely spares Akuma a glance as the German Shepard discards the bag and immediately goes for his dog bowl, lapping up water. How Akuma managed to sniff Bakugo's nitro-glycerine for six hours all the way home, holding onto a bag weighing over three kilograms was almost absurd. The hero files a thought in the back of his mind that he'll cook something up for Akuma in the evening.

He hurries into his bathroom and gently lays Todoroki in the bath. As soon as he lays Todoroki down, he sighs and cracks his neck twice. _Fuck, that felt good._ Bakugo ignores his aching limbs and grabs a spare towel from a nearby rack, throwing it over Todoroki's crotch, covering his modesty. His mind flies into auto-pilot as his hero training kicks in, performing first aid immediately.

He raises Todoroki's legs and balances them on the rim, encouraging blood flow to his vital organs. The blonde plugs the bathroom sink and turns the ice-cold water on in an attempt to temper Todoroki's rising temperature. The water laps at Todoroki's paper white skin and steams immediately, but he does not move. Bakugo takes a flannel from the rack and dunks it into the icy water, wrenching it and placing it on Todoroki's swelling forehead, which steams immediately.

Aizawa's voice rings in his mind like a recorded machine, memory unfolding into practice. _"Keep talking to casualties, even if they are unconscious – this will keep them awake or encourage the brain to react to outward stimuli."_

"If you're awake you better start fuckin' talkin' 'cause I'm about to start doing a bunch of shit to err, sort this out, so don't freak out."

Silence.

Anxiety wiggles into Bakugo's gut. His Alpha paces in his conscience, causing his heart rate to increase. Half n' half needs to wake the fuck up soon, or Bakugo has to take him to the nearest hospital – half an hour away by car. "Fuck, fine, whatever. But I'm gonna keep talking."

The blonde leans forward to press his ear against Todoroki's nose and feels a puff of hot air against his lobe. _Okay. Good._ He pulls a stool from the cupboard to sit on and angrily snatches the first-aid box from his bathroom sink, wrenching it open. He sits as he cleans his hands with antiseptic soap and bandages it. He shuts off the bath water before pulling on latex gloves, spewing whatever nonsense comes to his brain.

"You're heavy as shit, you know. The fuck have you been eating? Horses?" Bakugo rips open a bottle of saline solution with his teeth and pours it onto Todoroki's wounded shoulder until the angry red welt becomes pink, cleaning the wound.

"You must've pigged out over Christmas, hah? You fuckin' fatty." The blond rummages through the box and briefly glances at the anaesthesia.

" _If you need to inject anaesthesia because of pain, make sure the dosage matches their height and weight. Don't use it if you're unsure if they've eaten or if you haven't measured the dosage." Aizawa sighs as his tired eyes survey the room. "Anaesthesia relaxes the muscles. If at any point they need to vomit, and you've injected a sedative in their neck, then the airways… well, you don't need to be a genius to know they could choke."_

Bakugo looks away from the anaesthesia. "Hey half n' half. This shit is gonna be easy peasy, okay? You ain't gonna feel a damn thing. I'm not gonna put this anaesthesia in you, 'cause…" He glances at Todoroki. "Fuck it. I'm gonna stitch this shit up. It's gonna hurt, but don't be a bitch. If you move, I'll kill you."

Bakugo ignores the sedative and pulls out a curved needle. Grabbing a lighter from the box, he flicks it on and burns the needle. The blond dumps the needle in a cotton ball soaked with alcohol, sterilising it, before threading it with a dissolvable thread. Bakugo sucks in a deep breath as he turns to Todoroki. He closes his eyes and looks within, reaching for his Alpha – for himself. His Alpha finds him and rumbles to life again, reaching for Bakugo and wrapping him in a mental embrace. A quiet confidence fills him now - he takes a breath. He practices mindfulness and becomes aware of his body, of his presence, of his power. His movements become fluid and any shakiness becomes bone still. A calm wash over him and he opens his eyes.

He's fuckin' got this shit.

"Okay shit head. I'm gonna start stitching now."

The blond sets to stitching Todoroki's shoulder, looping the needle through the parted angry flesh and sewing it shut. He is so focused that he does not notice Todoroki's twitching fingers.

Bakugo's heart nearly leaps out his mouth when he hears Todoroki's raspy groan half way through the procedure.

"What the fuck?" Bakugo snaps. Todoroki shakily reaches for the rim of the bath, sloshing water everywhere. The flannel drops from his forehead into the water. Miraculously, the towel covering his crotch remains unmoved. Bakugo presses a gloved hand to his bare chest, pressing him down with surprising force. _"_ What did I just say? _Don't fucking move."_

Todoroki's teeth chatter as he lays in the bath. His skin is blotchy from his fever temperature, clammy and still searing hot. When he opens his eyes to look at Bakugo, they are plagued with dark circles; his scarred eye flickers with fire and his pupils are disproportionately larger than his irises. Bakugo vaguely registers his Alpha mewling in his consciousness. He feels a faint magnetism as he stares at Todoroki, but files the sensation in the 'deal with this bullshit later' part of his brain.

"Mum?" Todoroki's voice is hoarse and croaky, barely above a whisper. Bakugo's voice booms in comparison.

"Yes, I am your mother, here to serve you tea and shortbread biscuits. No dipshit" Bakugo hisses through gritted teeth. "Listen, you need to keep still because your shoulder isn't going to stitch itself."

Todoroki frowns as his tongue darts over his chapped dry lips. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth, visibly shaking. As soon as he closes his eyes, the magnetic feeling dispels. "Wha-" he winces, quivers and begins coughing violently. His tongue is so swollen and sand-paper dry that it chokes off his attempts at conversation.

Bakugo's sighs audibly as he takes the soaked flannel from the bath, wrenches it and slaps it on half and half's forehead again. Todoroki winces, but then sighs from the coolness that soothes his bruised temple. The flannel steams. The blond storms out of the bathroom muttering curses under his breath. As he enters the kitchen, he hears Akuma snoring before he sees him. The dog lays on his back next to his now empty water bowl, legs in the air like grappling looks, snoring so loudly that the plant pots rattle on their stands. Bakugo's bubbling anger dies and his expression softens. This idiotic dog helped save half and half's life – they might not even be here if it weren't for Akuma.

Bakugo takes two large glass from his cabinet and fills both with water, reminding himself to cook something nice for Akuma later. He returns to the bathroom, unceremoniously collapsing on the bathroom stool. When he speaks again, his voice is considerably less loud, slower, detached, as though it is not his own. His tone carries the undercurrent of irritation.

"You have a very high fever. You're fighting a reaction." He pauses. "Or, your cut is infected. Fuck knows. The wound is at risk of becoming fatal if you keep up your bullshit antics." Bakugo is sure Todoroki is unconscious, because his eyes are closed, and his teeth-chattering has stopped. He keeps talking to rouse him. "Or you can just do that. Do you want the water?"

Todoroki barely nods.

 _So the fucker is awake._ "Don't fucking move, then. You'll unravel the sutures."

Bakugo silently leans forward and tilts the cool liquid to half and half's chapped lips. Todoroki's eyes flutter open, before gulping down the entire glass without stopping. When the glass is empty, Todoroki heaves a sigh and sinks lower into the bath. Bakugo sets the glass next to him, before ripping his latex gloves off. He angrily digs into the first-aid box and wrenches another pair on, elbowing the bathroom rim in the process. If Todoroki notices, he doesn't show it. He is not sure if half and half is awake, but he takes his chance and continues threading Todoroki's wound until it is closed. Todoroki is silent and limp throughout the entire process. When Bakugo loops the final stitch through, he cuts the thread and throws the needle in the bin. He sprays the stitch with anti-sceptic spray and waits for it to dry. He reaches for the medical gauze in the first aid box, spraying it with the same anti-sceptic spray.

"Bakugo?" Todroki manages a throaty whisper. He is barely able to move.

Bakugo is surprised that half and half remained compliant and awake throughout the second half of an undoubtedly painful procedure. He doesn't show it. "The cookie monster from Christmas at your service. Seriously, shithead? Yes, it's me. The best fuckin' hero to walk this earth."

When Bakugo turns back to Todoroki, the semi-naked man is pinning him with a groggy, blank stare. He has no idea why his heart rate quickens, or why his Alpha is bashing against his mental cage, or why Todoroki smells of spiky stinging nettles. He has no idea why he looks away to grab the gauze (yeah, only to grab the gauze) or why he knows that Todoroki is trying to hide his embarrassment, but he knows. He can… smell it? Fuck - he has no idea why his Alpha won't shut the fuck up, why the air in the room is making him dizzy, why he wants to make Todoroki comfortable. To be honest, he has no idea what the fuck is going on. It's incredibly unsettling, solitude feels better than confusion.

So Bakugo does what he does best. He wings it – and fucks it up.

He turns back to half and half, staring at the closed wound rather than Todoroki's eyes that make Bakugo feel like they are magnets pulling his blood out of his body. "Can you move?"

Todoroki doesn't even blink. His blank, exhausted-induced stare makes Bakugo shift uncomfortably. Why is he looking at him like that? Half and half's voice is still hoarse, raspy, low. "Maybe."

Bakugo offers him the damp gauze. "Can you wrap your shoulder?"

Todoroki's closes his eyes, finally. "Can try."

Todoroki reaches for the rim of the bath, shaking as he pulls himself forward. He pants from the exertion alone, avoiding Bakugo's gaze. His skin is still sickly pale, but some colour has returned to his face. The scent of stinging nettles worsens, reminding Bakugo of jagged spikey plants that scream _do not come close._ Todoroki shakily lifts the flannel from his face, dumping it in the water. He removes his legs from the rim of the bath, careful not to let his modesty show. His scarred eye still dances with faint flames. He turns his face from Bakugo.

 _ **He is ashamed. Comfort him.**_

 _Now you talk? Fuck off._

Bakugo doesn't know why his Alpha speaks, for the first time, in over five years. The internal monologue irritates him - his scowl deepens. He realises his folly and how it looks, so he tries to back-pedal, attempting to hide this irritation behind a blank mask. He fails - Todoroki notices. He notices everything.

"Sorry." Todoroki croaks as he sits upright now, panting, shaking, weak. Steam rises from his body as glances at Bakugo, clutching the side of the bath. Todoroki tries to form full sentences, but his mouth still feels like dried timbre and he's so exhausted he settles for one-syllable phrases. "Tired."

Bakugo is so taken aback by the apology that he actually looks half n' half in the eye. His stomach backflips, his mind floats. The magnetism from earlier returns, heavier. He feels as though he is wading through water, taken away by the current. His eyes widen as his chest blooms with a sudden warmth, but his fingers feel cold and icy. _What the fuck is going on?_ He faintly registers the change of scent in the air – the smell of the ocean, like sand near a stream of water. It smells…like safety? Or a safehouse? It smells _really fucking good._ He has no idea how long they stay this way, staring at each other, falling into whatever spell Todoroki is casting. The 'deal with this bullshit later' part of his brain becomes bigger, turning into 'deal with this bullshit by the end of the night.'

After what he considers too long, Todoroki awkwardly averts his gaze. The dizziness dissipates immediately. Bakugo turns to the first aid box and quickly checks the inventory, making a show of rustling items loudly to calm his nerves. When he turns back to Todoroki, he is thankful that he is not looking at him.

It doesn't need to be said. They both know Todoroki won't be able to wrap his shoulder.

"Er, whatever. It's cool. So" Bakugo waves the damp gauze in his gloved hand. "Seeing as how I am just so fuckin' awesome for carrying your fat ass for six hours and threading that monstrosity, I'll seal the deal and wrap your shoulder. You're welcome."

Todoroki's lips settle in a thin line. He's too tired to retort the fat ass comment and Bakugo knows that. "Okay." He whispers icily, but the scent in the room doesn't change. "...No wrapping."

"You gonna put it on yourself?"

Todoroki is still not looking at him. He works his tongue to try and phrase a half-decent sentence. When Bakugo sees this, he raises the other glass of water to Todoroki's lips. Half n' half jerks forward slightly, gulping down the other glass as well. He sighs louder.

"Well?" The blond jeers as he sets the glass down.

Todoroki works his tongue again and has more success. "Don't need it."

" _Hah?"_ Bakugo nearly snorts. "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. Look at the size of that thing." The blonde flicks a hand towards his shoulder. "It's as big as my fuckin' fist. Stop being a bitch."

The temperature in the room drops. Todoroki inches closer to the wall. "No."

Bakugo is completely unphased. The Alpha in him rises angrily. Is Todoroki challenging him? "Listen here fuckface. I walked for over eight hours today, searching for-" For what? A red wolf? A feeling of connectedness with a creature that nearly killed his dog? "for something – and I found you passed out, naked, face first, in your _own blood."_ Todoroki winces, but Bakugo surges on. "I could have left your dead ass there, but instead I carried you from where ever the fuck, to my house, with my dog, for six hours. Don't get prissy with me, 'cause you can fuck right off, right out of that door, back to wherever the fuck I found you. I'm putting this gauze on, whether you like it or not. Now turn the fuck around."

Half and half's expression dims. The air becomes so smoky and hot all of a sudden, Bakugo is reminded of molten lava on the brink of combustion. The blond tenses, ready for a challenge, but is once again surprised when Todoroki, shakily (and with a lot of effort and wheezing) turns his back to him. Bakugo hates the smell. The Alpha in him rocks mournfully, desiring that sea salt and summer scent again. _What. The. Fuck is happening today?_

Bakugo presses the tail end of the gauze lightly into half n' half's shoulder. His skin is still unbelievably hot. Todoroki winces, tensing under his touch, but otherwise doesn't move. The smoky smell is so heavy, so strong near Todoroki's neck - that Bakugo almost physically recoils from it.

 _ **COMFORT HIM. MAKE HIM SAFE.**_

"Jesus fuck, look. I'm tired and hungry. I am, err…" God, is he really going to say sorry? Even though he carried half and alf for six hours? Fuck that shit. No fucking chance. "…I just need food." Bakugo grits his teeth. This is painful. _Why the fuck is this happening? Why am I even here?_ "It's not you. Or whatever the fuck. Okay? Cool. Fuck."

The effect is almost immediate. Bakugo can't see Todoroki's reaction, but he can tell he's shocked. The tangy scent evaporates into nothingness, followed by the faintest scent of artic ice and ash mixed together. Todoroki is guarded but accepting nonetheless. Half and half relaxes slightly but says nothing. After a few seconds, Bakugo slowly starts to wrap his shoulder. Up close, the blond notes that half n half's wide back is littered with scars, some deep, some small. Several of them connect together - absently, Bakugo thinks they look like constellations.

"Sorry. For reluctance." Todoroki hoarsely whispers and begins a hacking cough. He quickly recovers. "Not used…to close contact."

"I can fuckin' tell. You need to relax." Bakugo grumbles.

"I nearly died." Todoroki deadpans with more strength than Bakugo thought he had.

"It's a shame you didn't because I feel like killing you myself right now. Shut up and let me finish."

The atmosphere calms considerably as Bakugo silently wraps Todoroki's shoulder with the sterile gauze. He wraps tight enough that it won't rub, but not too tight as to suffocate the blood flow. When the blond is satisfied with his work, he seals the end of the gauze with a plaster. Todoroki looks at him at him now when he leans away, ripping his latex gloves off. His grey and turquoise eyes briefly lock onto Bakugo's burned palm and narrow, before moving up to Bakugo's face. Bakugo does not look at him as he cleans his wound and packs away the first aid box. He reaches for the large towel and a bathrobe hanging from his bathroom rack. When he turns to face Todoroki, the exhausted male is looking at him with earnest eyes. The magnetism begins, but he wrenches his eyes away and looks at half and half's eyebrows instead. Bakugo notices that Todoroki's eyebrows are icy white and blazing red. They remind him of the colourful moths he used to catch as a child. He almost thinks they look _pretty_. He also notices that half and half's scarred eye no longer flickers with flames. He doesn't know why he notices these things.

"Sorry." The blonde does not know why half and half is apologising. "And thank you."

Bakugo's mind has its foot on the accelerator and is full steam ahead at 100 miles per hour because he thinks Todoroki's eyebrows are pretty. He nods dumbly, mute all of a sudden, before throwing the clean towel and bathroom robe over the drying rack. Something is wrong. Something is happening right now. The scent of sunny beaches and overflowing wildlife makes him feel giddy. He doesn't know why he knows, but half and half feels safe here with him. He finally meets Todoroki's gaze. They are tired but grateful and… something else. Something else Bakugo doesn't know and doesn't want to know. Todoroki knows something Bakugo doesn't know. The unknown makes Bakugo's stomach clench like a solid fist. He feels strangely compelled to be close to half and half, which makes him panic even more. He needs to leave, right now.

He breaks eye-contact as he speaks, staring at Todoroki's hair instead. The strange feeling dies immediately. "Whatever – put this shit on when you're done."

Todoroki blankly nods. An awkward silence ensues. Todoroki tenses and the sunny-side scent begins to diminish.

 _ **MAKE HIM SAFE.**_

Bakugo garbles anything that comes to his brain. "I have spare blankets and pillows. They're in the drawer under my bed. When you're done, there's left over Vietnamese-Pho in the fridge. Warm that shit up in the microwave. Don't eat anything solid – your stomach - you might puke it back up." He has no idea why he's talking so much.

Todoroki quirks a single eyebrow and nods again. The sunny-side scent palpably increases. "Thanks."

Bakugo wants to know what the eyebrow quirk means, but for his own embarrassing sake he dares not ask.

"You can sleep on the, uh, sofa. Or go home. I don't give a fuck."

Todoroki nods. "Sofa."

Bakugo nods dumbly again. Todoroki is sleeping in his home, on his sofa, within metres of his bed, for fuck-knows however long. This should bother him. It does not – the realisation that it doesn't bother him legitimately worries him. This is not like him. He knows what is transpiring between half and half himself is bigger than whatever is happening in his head. They stare at each other, the strange spell that pulls Bakugo's blood hanging heavily in the air. Todoroki does not look away. Bakugo's heart slams against his ribcage. Why is he so nervous?!

"I'm going to walk my dog." Bakugo suddenly turns and kicks the door open, stepping into his open-planned home. He abruptly turns and kicks his front door open, stepping into the evening breeze. The slap of cool, fresh air carries him away from his weird stupor. His best friend trots at a leisurely pace at his heels, sniffing plants and peeing in random places. He does not spare Akuma a second glance as he strides. His mind is on overdrive.

Bakugo can admit that he can be reckless, aggressive and occasionally he is heartless – but not frequently. He is never wrong about what his gut tells him about people – about who they are, what they represent. If there was anything shitty Deku taught him through their rough times together, it was perception. Today, he set out to find a wolf. Instead, he finds a half-dead class mate that smells _suspiciously_ like the red fur he found on the ground. He drags him back and his Alpha is going ape shit. Something is up – is it ridiculous to interrogate half and half over a wolf with the same eyes, the same elemental capabilities, with a _suspiciously_ similar shoulder injury?

 _Why do I feel like I've found more than what I was looking for? What is all this fanciful feeling bullshit?_ He looks into himself, scrambling for answers from his Alpha – but his mirror self is silent and still, dormant when the hero needs it the most. _Alright, fuck you then._

He thinks and thinks until he cannot stand himself thinking anymore. Bakugo doesn't know how long he walks past trees and jagged rocks for, but he walks long enough for his forgotten hunger to raise its ugly head and for the creeping night sky to make him reconsider. By the time he returns home, Todoroki is passed out on his sofa. A blanket is tucked to his nose and his ugly bruised temple peeks out over the covers.

Bakugo glances at the kitchen, finding a washed bowl and utensils in the drying rack. He crosses the room to open his fridge. The Pho is gone.

The hero prepares dinner silently for himself and Akuma, but the night is a blur. He is not entirely there as he chops up Akuma's favourite treat (raw tuna), mixing it with carrots and a raw egg. He is absent as he sets the bowl down in front of Akuma, too distracted to go through dog commands before the mutt's meal. Bakugo eats his spicy crab soup and crusty bread dinner in silence, staring at Todoroki's mismatched eyelashes that are blazing red and icy white from the seat of his bed. Even as he showers before bed, a voice in his mind screams that something is wrong with this sudden obsessiveness, but the voice in his Alpha screams that something is absolutely right. He is so confused, torn and tired that after hours of overthinking, he quietly hisses "Fuck this," at 1AM, grabs his toothbrush and angrily brushes his teeth until his gums protest.

Akuma attempts to sniff Todoroki's toes that peak from the covers as Bakugo brushes his teeth, but a low warning growl from his owner cancels the idea.

Bakugo shuts off the lights. He strips into his sleep gear and climbs into bed. As usual, he opens his arms. Akuma wipes his paws on the mat near the front door, before crossing the room and jumping into bed. His heart hammers in his chest; the room smells delightfully of artic ice and minty winter shrubs. It makes him even more nervous. Akuma licks the underside of Bakugo's chin until his heart rate settles. The hero uncharacteristically places his lips atop of the mutts head, stroking the back of his ears with his thumb.

"Thank you," he whispers to the only creature on the planet that has ever received his love and affection.

His dreams are stock still and dead for the first time in six years.

* * *

Yyyyeeepppp.


End file.
